


Scenes From a Married Life

by schizoauthoress



Series: Forged and Built and Earned [2]
Category: The Simpsons
Genre: Gen, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, Minor Character Death, Therapy, casual homophobia from canon, hey look alive Thad in one of my stories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9821201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schizoauthoress/pseuds/schizoauthoress
Summary: We only saw Thad once, but Julio clearly loved the guy enough to get married to him.  Who was he, what was their life together like, and why isn't he around anymore?  Let's find out.Recently added (written December 20, 2017): Thad has something to get off his chest. (Why isn't he around anymore? That's here.) Set after the "King of Clubs" chapter chronologically.





	1. A Shooty-Stealy

It was just supposed to be a normal day.

Julio had gone in to the First Bank of Springfield to manage his and Thad's investment portfolios. Thad in particular had a complex, diversified setup that required help from a banking professional. He was pleased to see that Janet was working today -- she was very good at explaining the ins and outs of possible changes to his stocks and bonds without making Julio feel stupid for asking questions. He'd been in the middle of greeting her when he heard the gunshots.

"Everyone down on the floor, now!" the man with the handgun barked. He had hair that was more grey than brown, he wore khakis and an orange 'Hawaiian' shirt, and had he not looked so crazed, Julio would have barely noticed him. 

Julio hurried to comply, and so did the beared old man by the coffee carafes. Janet crouched behind her desk. From what he could see of the other bank patrons, they all knelt or lay flat as ordered, except for the man who'd come in last.

The long-haired man in the brown suit struggled with his long florists' box as the shooter took out one of the security cameras with a bullet. Julio realized, with a sinking feeling, that the box contained a rifle.

"This is a robbery!" He backed toward the shooter. "Not a separate robbery; we're together!"

That awful old clown -- and honestly, who went around wearing greasepaint all day? -- looked up and apparently couldn't resist asking in a snide voice, "You mean, like a couple?"

"No!" said the shooter in the orange shirt, at the same time the man in the brown suit said,

"Yes!"

Julio felt the smallest twinge of sympathy for the second man, though not that much. They were still robbing the bank and willing to shoot people for it.

"Oh great," an old lady sneered. Julio thought he might have seen her around the Simpsons' house... one of Marge's Charity Chicks, or something. He couldn't remember her name. They hadn't spoken much. "We're being robbed by _Johnny_ and Clyde."

Quite a few of the other hostages started to laugh. Julio marvelled at how damn invulnerable straight people always seemed to think themselves. He put his arms over his head, and silently cursed that hateful old woman -- she might have set them off. More gunshots rang out, and the woman cried out, but when he snuck a glance at her, she seemed unharmed.

One of the bank tellers, Mr. Moleman, slowly reached for the alarm. Unfortunately, the shooter in the orange shirt caught sight of the motion about the same time that Julio did, and barked, "Stay away from that button!"

However, shooting at it was exactly the wrong thing to do. The alarms went off anyway, as the bullet smashed the casing for the button. The man cursed.

And Julio thought, 'Oh God, I'm going to die.'

****

After they'd managed to deactivate the alarm bells -- the robber with the rifle had blasted one and torn down the other -- the pair of criminals ordered the people in the bank into two groups. Julio and several of the employees were huddled against Janet's desk, where the man in the orange shirt could keep his eye (and gun) on them. Mr. Moleman and the other teller were ordered out from behind the safety glass and lined up with the bank patrons, and the man in the brown suit was keeping his eye on them. Marge was at the far end of this group -- Julio could see her impressive blue beehive over the edge of the desk.

An electronic ringing sounded, and the man in the brown suit exclaimed, "She's got a cell phone! We didn't plan for this man! We didn't plan for this!" He yelled -- in rage, or maybe panic -- and started firing at random. People screamed and cringed and tried to take cover.

Julio heard a new voice crying out in agony, heard glass shattering... and he kept his face turned away.

"Oh, no. Now it's murder, man! It's murder!" 

More glass shattered. When Julio dared to look up, the shooter in the orange shirt was standing alone... over the sprawled and bleeding body of a security guard.

The shooter took a slow breath, then another. And he turned to the others in the bank. "Get in the vault," he said, in a low dangerous voice. 

As people hurried to get to their feet, Julio worried that there would be a panic, a rush for the secured enclave that held the safe deposit boxes. The shooter recognized this as well, and said harshly,

"One at a time, single file, move!"

****

Julio had not always lived in Springfield, and he was starting to think that rank incompetence was a common feature of its long-time residents. The robber shut the vault door, and the electronic lock automatically engaged. Julio, standing next to Marge and pressed up close to the bars because of how crowded the vault was, had an excellent view of the robber going through the door to the teller stations... and he soon had an excellent view of the robber throwing a fit.

"All these safes are locked!" He yelled, then demanded, "Which one of you employees has the master!"

A soft voice near the back of the vault spoke up. "I do..."

Julio suppressed the urge to sigh. That might just catch him a bullet. But he recognized the voice of Hans Moleman, and remembered that he and the old woman who'd been shot at were among the first into the vault.

More frustrated cursing from the robber as he stomped back to the barred door of the vault. Janet pushed through the crowd as he came closer, and she said,

"I'll tell you the code for the lock. The main safe has a fingerprint scanning pad, so you need to let Hans out to open that. He's the only one cleared access it on this shift right now."

"All right, all right," the man in the orange shirt said impatiently. "Let's do this."

****

"Augh, dye pack!" the robber shrieked. "Man, that stings!"

He stumbled for a box of tissues on the stand provided for people to fill out their deposit slips, and somehow another dye pack went off in his face. Julio watched in confusion as Hans Moleman pushed a dummy teller into place at the teller station, ducking out of sight behind the counter as the robber stumbled back to the station.

"Dammit!" the robber wiped the blue dye out of his eyes, and caught sight of the dummy. "What are you lookin' at, huh??" 

When he hit the dummy with the butt of his handgun, the dummy's top half burst in another wave of blue dye. Julio marveled at the strange security measures of his bank.

The robber groaned. "Is anyone _else_ a dye pack? Tell me now, and I won't shoot you."

The bearded man with the cane raised his hand and said, "I..."

Whatever he was going to say was drowned out by a gunshot. Marge, Carl, and Lenny all flinched away from him. The old man rocked on his feet and clutched at his wounded shoulder.

"You said 'diabetic', right?" he gritted out.

The robber sighed, and pulled off his now-blue Hawaiian shirt. The white sleeveless undershirt underneath it had somehow gone unstained.

****

"It's not fair!" the old woman wailed, "I shouldn't die! I just came here to check the date!"

Julio didn't feel much sympathy for her, even as she started cry, but Marge clearly did. She held the old woman by the shoulders for a moment, trying to comfort her. Then she straightened up, steeling herself.

"Dwight, use your noodle," Marge said, addressing the robber. And only Marge would say it like that, Julio thought. She stepped closer, seeming to ignore the gun that Dwight was now aiming at her. "If you surrrender now, you're only looking at a few years in jail. I'll tell them you're a good guy!"

He trembled for a long moment, and said, "Marge, I can't go back to prison!" Dwight started to gesture with his hands, and Julio winced, noticing that his finger was still on the trigger. "I've got no wife, I've got no family... I've got nothing!"

In that moment, several red dots appeared on Dwight's chest. Julio was glad to finally see evidence of the police doing their damned jobs, even if he didn't relish watching another man die in front of him.

"If I give myself up, will you come visit me in the joint?"

Marge was taken aback by the question, and she started fiddling with the pearls on her necklace. Julio felt like he couldn't breathe. What if she said 'no'? This Dwight might shoot her, and they were at closer range than Dwight had been to his other shooting victim.

"Hey! If I can say yes to Chinese toys that kill kids, you can say yes to him," Krusty exclaimed.

Julio really hated that awful old clown.

****

As the SWAT team converged on the front door and grabbed Dwight, some of the other hostages approached the door. Julio hung back with the old man, as Dr. Hibbert finally took a look at his wounded arm.

"I can't believe you didn't do this sooner," he said to Dr. Hibbert.

"I didn't relish the prospect of being shot myself," Dr. Hibbert said tersely. "There was nothing I could do for that security guard. He was dead by the time he hit the ground. And Jasper here was keeping pressure on his own wound..."

He finished cutting away the sleeve of Jasper's jacket, and Julio took the scrap of bloodied fabric off his hands. Then Dr. Hibbert started on cutting off the sleeve of Jasper's shirt, above where the old man had a hand clamped over the sluggishly bleeding wound.

"Julio?" 

Julio looked up, toward the glass front of the bank. Through the broken window, he could see his husband leaning over one of the wooden barriers in the police cordon.

"You can't go in there, sir," one of the cops said gruffly.

Carl Carlsson approached the two, and Julio could hear him explaining, "He's helping Dr. Hibbert with one of the old guys, the one who got shot. He's fine, though."

Julio saw Thad's shoulders sag as he sighed with relief, and then he turned his attention back to Jasper.

****

Dr. Hibbert escorted Jasper to the ambulance. Another cop was standing by the door, and watched as Julio got to his feet.

"Let's go," she said. And she escorted him out, a strong hand on his arm for support. By this time, they'd removed the body of the security guard. Julio still avoided looking at where the man had fallen, where his body had been shoved away from the doors by Dwight.

Thad was waiting, in the same spot that Julio had seen him last. Worry and fear was etched in every line of his face. And then he saw Julio, and his expression cleared into relief. Julio pulled away from the cop and rushed the last few steps to his husband. They hugged each other hard.

"Are you okay, honey?" Thad whispered in his ear.

Julio laughed, brief and bitter. "Not really. Can we go home?"


	2. A Hurty-Healy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things won't go back to the way they were, but Julio is getting better.  
> [takes place after "I Don't Wanna Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" (Season 19, Episode 4) ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to keep this pattern for naming the chapter titles, but this one is related to the first, so... there you go.

"Hi, baby," Julio greeted his husband, as he dropped his messenger bag into the back seat. He closed the back door, opened the one in front, and climbed into the passenger seat of Thad's SUV. Once he was settled in with the door closed, Julio leaned over and kissed Thad on the cheek.

"Hi there," Thad replied. As Julio buckled up, he asked, "Good session today, sweetheart?"

Julio let out a breath. "Good? I think so. We discussed some difficult stuff, though."

Thad patted him on the thigh, before guiding the automobile back into traffic. "I'm glad it went well."

Julio relaxed, comforted by the confirmation that Thad didn't expect him to go into detail about his therapy session. The bank robbery was nearly a month in the past, but Julio still had trouble sleeping, and nightmares when he did sleep. Thad had asked around for a good therapist -- one who wouldn't see Julio's sexuality and marriage as a problem; one who had experience with post traumatic stress -- and now Julio was scheduled to meet with the doctor several times a week, after his classes at cosmetology school. Julio asked, "How about you? Good day at work?"

"Productive," Thad replied, flashing Julio a quick smile before returning his attention to the road.

That usually meant that Thad's latest work assignment involved something upsetting or awful, but he had gotten a lot done toward building his case. Different parts of the firm specialized in different areas of the law, but when he was younger Thad had found a calling in representing tenants who'd gotten into conflicts with their landlords, mostly in commercial spaces. Plenty of times, he'd seen commercial landlords pounce on the slightest excuse to evict a tenant -- such as Noble Realty blaming the tenant for attracting vandals when a space was graffitied with slurs directed at the person running the business and their immigrant employees. (Noble was the woman's last name, not an indicator of her business practices.)

Julio smiled and turned on the radio. "I'm glad."

****

Thad hummed along with the song on the radio -- an upbeat number that often played on the easy listening station he liked -- and tapped his fingers to the beat on the edges of the steering wheel. Rush hour traffic coming out of downtown Springfield was a beast -- had always been this bad. Julio was dozing in the passenger seat.

Most days, Thad got off work late enough to avoid the worst of rush hour, but schedule shuffling had been necessitated by Julio's therapy appointments. Julio rode the bus from the Springfield Institute of Cosmetology to Psychiatry Row, but there were no routes running from Psychiatry Row to their home. So Thad went into work earlier in order to clock out in time to pick up Julio on these days, so they could ride home together. It wasn't ideal, and Thad didn't like driving in this heavy traffic, but he loved Julio and wanted to do what was best for his husband.

A new song started up, and Thad snickered. This one had been playing in the club when he met Julio, years ago. A big reason Thad had spoken to the younger man was just how disgusted Julio looked at --

"Ugh." Julio grumbled. He reached over and pressed a different preset button, switching to the local rock station that frequently played selections from heavy metal bands. "Don't make me listen to garbage, baby."

"Not with your own two ears!" Thad joked. Julio snorted.

"I mind this stuff less than that screechy excuse for a dance track."

"Sorry sweetie, but that screechy excuse for a dance track is technically our song," Thad pointed out, still struggling to keep his laughter under control.

"No, no way, I refuse!" Julio cried, as he almost always did whenever Thad brought that 'argument' up. Julio was sitting up now, eyes blazing, and declared, "It can't be 'our song' if I hate the song. You can have the stupid song all to yourself!"

Thad hid a smile. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed Julio's impassioned opinions until he heard them again. He'd noticed, of course, that Julio had been much quieter since that fateful day at the First Bank of Springfield... more apt to jump at noises and get anxious. (Nowadays, Julio especially didn't like not knowing where Thad was at any given time. Thad had gotten into the habit of sending texts about his day, updating Julio on when he couldn't get to the phone or if he was leaving one place for another.)

"No, no..." Thad said calmly, as they finally turned onto the major street that their condominium complex sat on. "I'd rather claim a song you like to dance to."

"That's because you like watching when I shake my butt," Julio pointed out.

"Guilty as charged!" Thad admitted, with a dramatic sigh.

Julio glanced at him, a sly smile barely hidden. "Are you about to throw yourself on the mercy of the court?"

"I know you too well." Thad pulled into the parking spot in front of the three-story low rise building that housed their unit. (His unit, technically, since he'd bought the condo long before even dating Julio, but Thad planned to leave it to Julio anyway.) He turned off the engine and looked at Julio, who was reaching into the back seat area to grab the messenger bag again. Thad said, "If I do that, you'll exploit my 'weakness' and tease me."

Julio's only response, before he got out of the car, was a low, alluring laugh.

Thad bit his lip and hurried out of the SUV himself. When he caught up to Julio, he took his husband's hand -- making sure that Julio knew he was there before reaching out -- and said quietly, "Well... maybe after dinner I will."

Julio smiled warmly at him and gave his hand a squeeze. "You like it when I tease."

"That's because you know when to stop teasing and deliver."

"Oh, you know it, baby!" Julio laughed. Thad grinned, happy to hear that easy sound from Julio again.


	3. Interlude: New Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a short, pre-Thad interlude to lead into the next chapter (a flashback to the first meeting)

Julio doesn't blame Homer for ditching their condo arrangement to go back to his wife. It does put him and Grady in the same situation as before, scraping by to make rent and utility payments -- which Julio can barely afford to chip in with, given his tuition at the Springfield Institute of Cosmetology. Julio has been worse living conditions, and with worse company. 

Grady does seem to be more upset over Homer leaving than Julio would expect. Julio is mystified by this. Homer is a sweet man, generally well-meaning, and entertainingly enthusiastic -- Julio can admit as much -- but he is also lacking in common sense, lazy when it comes to chores, and probably one of the least mindful people Julio has ever met. 

(Nor is Homer much to look at, in any department; Julio won't ever say such a thing, because it will only make Grady sulk and accuse him of being shallow.) 

'Could a few silly compliments really win someone over so well?' Julio muses. Homer is a smooth talker, in a natural way that still eludes Julio. Julio's first impulse is to be bluntly honest, not dressing up his words overmuch. He knows that he can take it too far, and make other people uncomfortable, so he's learned to soften his assessments for the most part. But maybe he's gotten lazy about that when it comes to Grady. 

Grady deposits a plate of omelette -- egg white, tomato, and spinach -- in front of Julio, and sets one in front of his own place at the table. 

Julio glances up from his copy of The New York Times, gives a little cough, and says, "Thank you, Grady." 

Grady gives him an odd look, one Julio can't quite read, before sitting down. "You're welcome," he replies. 

It all feels strangely formal, as if there is some new distance between them. Julio doesn't know how it got there, and he's not sure how to start bridging the gap. What did he do wrong?


	4. King of Clubs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julio goes out after being dumped by Grady, and meets a nice guy. (Or, how the "screechy excuse for a dance track" became technically Thad and Julio's song.)

"You are sexy," Julio tells his reflection firmly. "You're gonna go out and have fun tonight, and everybody is gonna want you."

Maybe if he says it often enough, he'll believe it. He still doesn't know what exactly led Grady to end their relationship. Julio knows he wasn't the best boyfriend, and Grady had often complained that he was too critical. When Grady actually broke it off, though, there hadn't been any anger or annoyance, just quiet sadness. Julio wonders what he did to make Grady just... give up.

Grady never elaborated on why they shouldn't see each other anymore, just told Julio "it's not going to work" and offered to cover the fees for breaking their lease on the condo. Julio isn't going to miss the condo -- it was in a nice neighborhood, but too expensive. He does miss Grady, and part of why he's going to the club tonight is to push Grady out of his mind.

It's been a little more than a month, and Julio is tired of being sad. He's tired of pointlessly rehashing his failed relationship. And if he ends up bringing somebody back to his new, tiny studio apartment, that'll be a nice distraction from his negative thoughts.

****

Julio wrinkles his nose as the next song comes up. He hates this one -- it's supposedly a dance track, but there's a strings sample in there that just screeches and gets on his nerves -- and it's always harder to lose himself in dance music he hates. He weaves through the still-crowded dance floor with vague thoughts of waiting out the stupid song, hoping the DJ won't keep pulling from that stupid album.

Somehow, the air around the bar feels stuffier than the dance floor did. Julio isn't surprised to feel eyes on him -- he knows he looks good tonight, and he's used to the attention. What does surprise him is how few men will meet his eyes. He's been busy these past few weeks, but could his fellow clubbers have forgotten him already?

Or has someone -- Grady -- been talking about him behind his back?

"Donnie, baby," Julio says to the bartender, "Toss me a bottled water and mix me up whatever's popular tonight? It sure isn't me."

"Aw, don't scowl, precious!" Donnie teases as he passes over an ice cold plastic bottle. His smile is warm and sympathetic as he starts selecting different bottles of alcohol, outfitted with pour tops, from a rack. "We just haven't seen you in a while. You should enjoy yourself!"

"Yeah, yeah..." Julio tilts his head back and drinks deeply from his water. Then he screws the cap back on and tucks the half empty bottle into the crook of his elbow, held against his body. "But I want somebody _else_ to enjoy myself tonight."

Donnie laughs at that comment before sliding over a room tumbler -- the drink inside smelling of gin and bitters, with a generous amount of blue curacao lending it color. A skewered maraschino cherry serves as a garnish. Julio reaches for his wallet to pay, but...

Another voice, clear and resonant, says behind Julio, "I've got that, Don."

Julio turns, and the speaker smiles. They are the same height, but this new guy is lighter in skintone, with long, light brown hair and a neat goatee. The shifting lighting of the club makes his eye color indistinct.

'He has a nice smile,' Julio thinks.

"Thad, the boss says you don't pay..." Donnie starts to say.

"Sebastien is too sentimental," the guy, Thad, declares. He keeps holding out the folded twenty dollar bill in his hand, despite Donnie shaking his head no. Thad directs a wink at Julio before saying breezily, "All right, call it a tip." He tosses the cash into the tip jar.

Donnie scrambles to catch it, saying, "Short my till, you crazy?"

Thad touches Julio's elbow, and murmurs in Julio's ear, "Let's get clear before he can collect from you." 

Julio picks up his alcoholic drink before letting the man guide him away from the bar. "It's a plan, Thad."

Thad leads the way to the club's upper level, and a small table near the railing that looked out over the dance floor. "I hope you don't mind being stolen away for a few songs."

"I could use a break," Julio says, affecting a casual air as he slides into one of the seats. He sets the bottled water on the table and takes a sip from the tumbler in his hand before mentioning, "By the way, my name is Julio."

"I'm Thad, but you caught that already," he says, with a little chuckle, as he sits.

Julio pushes at the skewer in his drink with one fingertip, letting the cherry swirl around in the liquor. "You know the owner of One Night Stan's, huh?"

"Sebastien and I became friends in college," Thad says, "which, you may have guessed, was a while back for us. He's a good man, but like I said, a little too sentimental."

"How so?"

"I didn't sue the crap out of city, because of improper zoning for this club, for him to do me silly favors. Which is why I had us ditch Don." The declaration is a bit abrupt, but Thad can probably see that Julio is dying to ask about their 'escape'.

"So you're a lawyer," Julio says. He takes another sip of his drink. "What do you mean by 'improper zoning'?"

"They tried to call this place an 'adult entertainment establishment' and evict Sebastien on those grounds." Thad raises his voice slightly as the next song starts with a heavy bass line. "The place is a little too close to the Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses, given the regulations, if it really was a sex-oriented business."

"But it's not," Julio points out, raising an eyebrow.

"That was my argument, and that's how the judge ruled in the end."

"Well, you kept the man's business running, Thad. In my opinion, that's worth a few free drinks." 

Thad snorts. "That's the core of Sebastien's argument, but it just doesn't feel right to accept."

Julio laughs. "I won't say you have to. Just that I can see it from his perspective, too."

"Anyway, I've talked about myself enough for now. What is it that you do, Julio?"

"I am a photographer!" Julio declares grandly, hand to his heart. Thad looks impressed, and then Julio lets his posture wilt dramatically as he intones, "...At a bargain portrait studio downtown called 'Shot in the Face'."

Thad tries his best not to laugh, but it escapes anyway. Julio winks at Thad upon hearing that, and Thad realizes that laughter was the reaction Julio was going for. So he says, "My sympathies! Is it really terrible?"

Julio decides that he enjoys the sound of Thad's laugh, just as he likes the look of Thad's smile. "Some days, yes. School picture day is always an _ordeal_ , especially when dealing with the junior high in West Springfield. And the baby portraits are their own level of Hell, believe me. But the work is less soul-crushing than bartending at hotels, and it pays my tuition and the bills much better."

Thad perks up at the mention of tuition and asks, "What are you studying?"

"Cosmetology," Julio answers, then takes a long drink from his tumbler, nearly draining it, to brace for the 'of course' and the scoffing that usually followed.

Thad does neither of those things. He studies Julio for a moment, then says, "Anyone that you style will be getting their money's worth."

Julio didn't blush, but it was a near thing. Thad sounded so damn sincere that it flustered him. He managed to say, "Thank you."

Another stupid song starts up, and the colored lights begin flashing at an even more frenetic pace. Julio glares at the DJ booth. Whoever is in there seems dead set on ruining his night.

Thad snickers. When Julio turns the glare -- albeit a milder version --- on him, he puts up both hands. "Sorry. You just... you look like that song sullied your honor or something!"

"I come here for a good time," Julio says, with a theatrical little sniff. "Not a parade of bad taste." He finishes off his drink and sets it on the table.

"You wanna get out of here?" Thad offers.

Julio plucks the skewer out of his glass, and pops the end with the cherry on it into his mouth. He pretends to think the question over, slowly sucking the cherry off the skewer and enjoying the way that Thad is watching him -- though of course, Thad pretends nonchalance. He pulls the little plastic stick free of his mouth and chews the cherry twice before swallowing it.

"Hell, yes."

****

"This... isn't what I was expecting," Julio admits.

Thad sends Julio another smile from across the table, taking a drink from his coffee cup before asking, "Do you have someplace else you'd prefer?"

Julio pauses, frosted scone held up to his mouth but still whole for the time being. "This is fine. Most men who get me out of the club take me home, that's all."

Thad shrugs. "So I'm more interesting in hearing more about how you spend your time rather than what brand of underwear you have on. Is that bad?"

"Different is not bad, baby." Julio's smile goes a little wicked. "Besides. Who says I'm _wearing_ underwear?" He takes a big bite of the scone and watches as Thad goes a little red before laughing sheepishly.

"I walked right into that one," Thad admits. He watches Julio continue stuffing his face. Thad wouldn't usually expect that behavior from a man who took such pride in his appearance, even for Rosie's baked goods. But Julio is surprising and contradictory... and Thad is definitely interested.

"Mm!" Julio licks his lips. "I love this bakery."

"Good food, and much better for holding a real conversation," Thad says with a nod. He reaches for one of the scones on the plate -- Julio grins and tugs the plate away, giggling at the exaggerated frown that Thad regards him with. Julio picks up a scone between thumb and forefinger and offers it to him.

Feeling bold, Thad leans in -- one hand on the table for support -- and takes a bite of the pastry while Julio is still holding it. Julio goes a little red across the cheeks, and Thad reaches out with his free hand to pluck the scone from Julio's grasp.

"Don't get between me and sweets," Thad says cooly. He winks at Julio, and Julio laughs.

"I'll keep that in mind!"

"Especially not Sconewall's scones." Thad takes another bite, chews, and swallows. "Did you know? Rosie, the owner, was part of the Stonewall Inn riot? That's the reason behind the name."

Julio shakes his head. "All I know about the owner is that she's a nice lady. And she makes excellent alfajores. I would have suggested we get some, if I'd seen any in the display case tonight."

"I don't think I've tried that yet."

"Oh, Thad. Then you've lived a very deprived existence."

****

Julio is glad that they chose to sit outside, on the small, fenced-in patio of the storefront. The clubs are starting to empty -- it's not closing time yet, but a good number of couples have abandoned the night's scene. Not a lot of places near One Night Stan's are open at this time. Because Sconewall Bakery and Cafe keeps late hours, they get most of the business from the hookups that move from the club to elsewhere. On the other side of the plate glass, the bakery is humming with business, but so far Thad and Julio remain undisturbed on the patio.

"I like the work I do now," Thad says. "I'm not a very good prosecuting attorney, at least when I have to take the lead."

"The work you do now is like defending Sebastien's business?" Julio asks.

Thad nods. "I know a lot of people will paint business interests with a broad brush, and say that defending any of them against lawsuits isn't good. But business owners are entitled to counsel, just like anyone else."

Julio sips at his black coffee. "I think part of the problem is that with lawyers, like a lot of services we only use irregularly, you get what you pay for."

"I hope you're not insinuating that those of us who do pro bono work don't put in as much effort if we're not getting a paycheck." Thad says.

"I don't think there's enough of you who do work with the poor." Julio gives Thad a practiced little smile that projects harmlessness, not because he thinks it will fool Thad, but because he knows Thad will see through it. "Doesn't the state bar association recommend fewer hours of pro bono service than the national?"

Thad's answering smile is wry. "Have I invited an activist out for coffee?"

"I did that more in college," Julio admits. "Actually, my ex-wife and I met after getting arrested at a protest."

"Wife?"

" _Ex_ ," Julio emphasizes slightly. "Irreconcilable differences, you know."

"Ah." Thad has heard of that often enough -- gay men in heterosexual marriages. It happened for a variety of reasons, like wanting children, or even simply thinking that compulsory heterosexuality was the only option. It sounds like Julio's reason had been more like the latter.

"I have my causes," Julio says with a shrug. He smiles, "And that's cause enough to know my fair share of lawyers. Not that I object to... getting to know one more."

Thad laughs.


	5. A Night Out?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thad and Julio are mutually distracting. (jumping forward from the last chapter; (occurs sometime between Season 16 and Season 20)

Julio took note of the fact that Thad had entered the room, rubbing a towel against his head, but didn't look away from flicking through the many hangers in the closet. Thad went digging through the dresser drawers.

"You sure do have a lot of crop tops," Thad commented with obvious amusement.

Julio glanced at his mostly unclothed husband, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed. Thad had stopped getting dressed and was watching Julio pick out an outfit. Julio asked, "Is that a criticism, baby?"

"Heavens, no!" Thad exclaimed (though his inablity to suppress his grin made his shock less than convincing). "I enjoy it when you show some skin. I'm just surprised at the sheer variety you have... and that I didn't really notice before now."

"Of course I have a lot of crop tops," Julio said patiently. He paused to pull off his current shirt, then said, "I work hard for these abs. I want plenty of options to show them off." He tugged a black crop top from its hanger and shimmied into it, then turned to face Thad. Julio struck an exaggerated modeling pose. "What do you think of this one?"

"Hmm.." Thad stood, and circled around Julio -- ostensibly to study how the semi-sheer fabric draped, or something. "It's very nice," Thad declared, then promptly slid his hand upward under the shirt and along Julio's back.

Julio shivered with pleasure at the touch. "I'm... glad you like it."

"I like whatever you wear," Thad said, stroking his hand up and down Julio's back. He smirked. "It's all so much fun to take off of you."

Julio bit his lower lip. "I thought we were getting ready for Morris's paty, not skipping ahead to the end of the night."

Thad leaned in and kissed Julio on the mouth, soft and chaste, yet somehow utterly tempting. Julio made a frustrated noise as he returned the kiss. Thad pulled back, grinning again.

"It's up to you, Julio."

"You can't say things like that when you're only wearing boxer shorts!" Julio cried. "It's unfair, and you KNOW what I want to say to that!"

Thad laughed. "And now you know how I feel when you dress in those belly-baring outfits."

Julio pouted. "Really tempted to get naked with me?"

"Yep. So we're even." Thad gave Julio another quick little kiss, and retreated just as fast.

Julio pointed at him, scowling outrageously. "Get your pants on, you tempter! We're GOING to that party."

*-*-*-*-*


	6. Disclosure

With the demands of Thad's job, and Julio juggling work and schoool, late night phone calls became their primary contact with each other -- especially during the week. It wasn't so bad. The two of them could talk for hours at a time -- Thad helping out with Julio's more business oriented classes; Julio assisting with Spanish translations if Thad came across some obscure phrasing; and both of them sharing stories about the past or the present.

It wasn't fun to deal with the effects of sleep deprivation the next day, but -- Julio reflected between sips of his morning coffee concoction (strengthened with multiple espresso shots) one day -- it was worth it. Thad made him happy, whether it was listening to tales of a past fashion disaster Thad had found so cool at the time, or talking about more serious topics of social justice. The more he knew about Thad, the more he liked.

Julio's cell phone buzzed, and he fished it out of his pants pocket.

 _'Tomorrow I dont stay after usual shift'_ read Thad's latest text message, _'Can bring dinner 2 ur place?'_

Julio smiled, setting aside his paper coffee cup so he could quickly text back: _'Depends. What's on the menu?'_

In the time it took Julio to retrieve his cup and take another drink of coffee, his phone buzzed again. Thad's reply read: _'Anything u want'_

Julio tapped out, _'How long has it been since you had a Cubano?'_

Almost immediately, a response from Thad appeared, and Julio had to laugh. All it said was _'???'_.

 _'The sandwich, Thad. A Cuban... sandwich.'_ Julio typed quickly, and followed that right away, with a more businesslike: _'Here's the number for a good place downtown'_ with the phone number.

It took Thad a bit longer than usual to respond. He eventually sent: _'Haha ok c u 2nite'_

****

The Cuban sandwiches, along with two large orders of seasoned steak fries, were in the passenger seat, well away from the bottled colas in the center console cupholders. Thad had checked (and re-checked) the route to Julio's apartment. He'd even called ahead and confirmed that Julio was home (and incidentally, still occupied with homework for business studies). And now Thad was sitting in the parking lot watching his hands shake.

'I'm nervous about this,' Thad realized. He balled his left hand into a fist and took a slow, deliberate breath. He hadn't felt this way about disclosing his status in a long time. 'Am I... I think I'm worried about how Julio will react!'

Thad marvelled at the thought, for the sheer novelty of the idea. He'd been rejected -- and even regarded with fear -- in the past, but he'd never been worried about the possibility before.

"He'll react well, or he'll react badly," Thad said aloud, "and I can't change that. So let's go."

He took another breath, unbuckled his seat belt, then pulled out the drink bottles, cradling them in the crook of his left elbow. He picked up the paper bag in his right hand and used the left to open the car door. Thad had to juggle items in his arms to steady them, and then he was able to click the key fob to lock the SUV doors.

"Shouldn't have put it off," Thad muttered, as he walked to the back door. (Julio said it was never locked and soon Thad proved that true.) The building was a boxy two story of painted-over brick, and the tiny foyer was tiled with cheap, chipped linoleum.

Thad bit his lip. 'Not gonna be a snob!'

He knew that Julio was struggling with tuition and rent. A nicer place was probably out of Julio's reach right now. Besides, Thad's college apartment hadn't been in anything nicer -- a sixth floor walkup in the city, with a perpetually broken elevator.

Thad clattered up the stairs and went down the narrow hallway, looking for Julio's apartment number among the doors. About halfway down the hall, a door opened up -- a moment later, Julio looked out.

Julio beamed upon seeing Thad, and hurried out to meet him. Thad couldn't resist smiling back, despite his nerves.

"Hello, baby!" Julio said happily. He took the paper bag off Thad's hands and lovingly patted Thad on the cheek. Thad felt himself blush at the affectionate familiarity.

"Hello, Julio." Thad cleared his throat, then teased, "You must be hungry!"

Julio laughed and shot back, "Oh, I am. But the sandwiches will do for one type." He slung an arm around Thad's waist and led the way down the hall at a brisk walk, to his apartment door.

Thad laughed as well. Julio's flirting was over the top, but Thad found it cute. "You're incorrigible."

Julio shut the door and walked over to his little round kitchen table to deposit the bag of sandwiches on it. He glanced back at Thad over one shoulder. "What am I?"

"Hm?"

"What does that word mean?" Julio asked patiently.

"Oh!" Thad set the cola bottles down as well. He hummed thoughtfully, eyes closed, then answered, "Unruly. Willful. Not easily swayed."

"That doesn't sound so good," Julio said.

Thad opened his eyes. "I happen to like you being incorrigible."

Julio raised both eyebrows, smirked, but said nothing as he unpacked the food. He studied the scrawled abbreviations on the paper wrapped on the sandwiches, then passed one over to Thad.

"I really didn't mean to insult you," Thad said, accepting his share of the steak fries. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings."

Julio plopped into one of the chairs, shoving a textbook over so he could spread out his meal. "I don't think my feelings are _hurt_ ," Julio replied thoughtfully. "It's been a while since an English word caught me off guard, _and_ I don't think anyone's ever described me that way before."

"Hm." Thad followed Julio's lead and took a bite of the sandwich. After chewing and swallowing, Thad glanced over the top bun at Julio. "Nobody's ever called you 'stubborn'?"

Julio choked on a steak fry. After a quick cough to dislodge it, he took a moment to chew it more thoroughly, then cleared his mouth by swallowing. "Ahem. Uh... you've got me there."

"Are you all right, Julio?" 

"Yeah, fine." Julio scowled dramatically and intoned, " _Jerk_."

"Sometimes," Thad conceded, with a grin.

The rest of the meal passed without further incident and little conversation. It seemed Thad's earlier teasing had a grain of truth to it -- Julio polished off his sandwich and fries much quicker than Thad. But he paced himself with the drink, sipping it slowly. As if he were allowing Thad time to catch up.

"Studies going well?" 

"More or less," Julio answered. "I'd rather not talk about it. It takes up so much of my time already."

"Ah."

Julio leaned closer, smiled, and said, "I'd rather talk about you."

Thad blushed, uncomfortably reminded that he hadn't yet disclosed an important fact about himself. He wondered if someone else had let it slip; he wondered if Julio already knew and was giving him an opening. "Maybe I did have an ulterior motive to bringing you food and putting you in a good mood."

Julio raised an eyebrow but said nothing, electing to let Thad speak without interruption.

"What you think of me matters. Which, for me, is a little strange. But I... I hope what I tell you isn't a dealbreaker."

Julio reached out, taking Thad by the hand. "I like you, Thad. I really, really like you."

"I like you, too, Julio. That's why... it's important that you know." Thad took a breath. "I'm HIV positive."

Julio blinked, and looked thoughtful. His hand didn't move from over Thad's. "You're on medication, right?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," Thad replied.

"That's good. That you're taking care of yourself." Julio squeezed Thad's hand lightly. "I still like you -- really like you."

Thad smiled brightly. Julio's other hand came up to cradle Thad's cheek.

"Can I kiss you?" Julio asked.

"Yes," Thad replied simply.

"I've been wanting to," Julio admitted, before leaning in to press his lips gently to Thad's. Thad kissed back softly.

They pulled away to catch a breath, and Julio chuckled. "So, Thad," he asked, "What do you think of your Cubano?"

"Hmm..." Thad licked his lips, then waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I think I'd call that... enticing."

"Not... incorrigible?" Julio teased. 

Thad tugged him closer, pressing a brief kiss to his mouth. "Maybe incorrigible _too_ ," Thad said with a laugh.

*-*-*-*-*


End file.
